


Perverse

by saltandlimes



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Kylo is a creeper, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn Watching, Voyeurism, collarbone kink, the first order has odd ideas of propriety, yes you just read that tag correctly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-30 16:10:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8539708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltandlimes/pseuds/saltandlimes
Summary: Every time Hux opens the holo, gets himself off to it once again with fingers tracing the curve of his own throat, he remembers how nasty he really is. Every time, he likes it a little more. In the face of such temptation, Kylo can't help but watch.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The fabled collarbone kink porn. Basically this grew out of a series of headcanons about the First Order considering collarbones a completely taboo region of the body and an erogenous zone.

Hux checks that the door is locked three times before he settles onto his bed, datapad perched in his lap. The blankets are pushed down to the bottom of the mattress in a crumpled heap. He’s in nothing but his thin boxers, environmental controls turned to the max to keep the room warm enough. He taps open the datapad.

It takes him a few minutes to work his way through the layers of proxies and smokescreens he’s set up to hide all evidence of what he’s about to do. He’ll delete all trace from the ship’s servers after he’s done, of course, but there’s always a chance someone could be ghosting his holonet access right now. Internal security isn’t known for being the most trusting branch of the First Order. And even a general isn’t completely exempt from observance. 

Finally, though, finally he’s finished with his preparations. He clicks open the portal to his favorite channel and signs in. A series of new holos pop us - additions from people he follows, suggestions from the channel’s algorithm. He scans over them absently. Marwin, a short, dark haired man, has uploaded a few new holos and Hux wonders if he should look them over. When he’d first discovered Marwin’s work, he’d watched every one of the man’s existing pieces, curling up with his datapad for hours. But recently… recently they’ve seem like they aren’t quite enough. He sighs. 

He knows what he’s going to watch. 

It’s the same holo he always goes back to, always when he’s tired and just wants the sharp thrill in his stomach, the shudder that runs along his spine as he watches. _An evening with Tarran_. He clicks open the holo. 

An empty room springs to life on the screen before him. There’s a large armchair in the center, and as Hux watches, a tall man makes his way over to settle himself in it. Like Hux, he’s dressed in nothing but boxers and an undershirt. Unlike Hux’s shirt, though, the man’s undertunic laces all the way from the middle of his chest to right under his throat. The laces are pulled tight right now, but Hux can’t help but feel a shiver of dirty anticipation as he looks at them. The man, Tarran, smiles at the recorder, teeth bright in his wide mouth. 

He’s sprawled out in the chair, one hand roaming absently over his chest, petting at the waistband of his boxers. Hux licks his lips as Tarran teases himself, cups a hand around his half hard cock. He rubs lightly at the head, thumb working himself through the material. Hux feels his own dick start to swell, chubby in his shorts. He keeps his hands clenched around the datapad through. He knows that when the show really starts, he won’t last long. He never does. 

“I was thinking of showing something different tonight.” Tarran’s voice is sharp, whipcrack vowels and slightly rolled “r”s. He must be from somewhere in the Outer Rim originally. He’s clearly part of the First Order now though. Hux understands his own people’s proclivities enough to know this holo was made for them and them alone. Tarran pulls away the waistband of his boxers, baring his cock completely. 

It’s a nice dick, Hux thinks absently. He’s seen it enough to know most of the ridges and thick veins that run across it, to wonder how it would feel filling up his mouth, his throat. But that’s not why he likes Tarran’s video so much. Curled up here, safe inside his room, he can admit that to himself. There’s something better to come. Something that makes Hux’s hands shake a little as he watches Tarran rub a finger over his balls, stroke at the soft place just behind them. Tarran gives himself a squeeze, reaches over to grab a bottle of lube from where it’s tucked between the cushions of the chair. 

Hux peels his hand away from the datapad, gives himself a rough squeeze as he watches Tarran slick up his hand. There’s a soft sound as Tarran lifts his dick from where it’s leaking on his still covered belly. He grunts as he begins to stroke it, and Hux can’t hold back a moan as he runs a thumb over his own cock in response. 

“I was thinking of something really _nasty_ for you tonight.” Hux’s gut clenches in anticipation as Tarran’s hand comes up to the laces of his shirt. Tarran fumbles one handed at the tie, but eventually gets it undone. “I can’t believe I’m doing this on holo. Everyone’s going to see what a dirty boy I am.”

Hux nods. Yes. Yes they are, and know how filthy they are for watching this. The wrongness of it trickles down his spine to warm the pit of his stomach. It’s so absolutely perverse, sometimes he can’t believe his own boldness for coming back to this recording time and time again. Then Tarran unlaces the very top of his tunic, and Hux’s breath hitches. The very top of Tarran’s pale throat is exposed, the white skin just below his adam’s apple. Hux bites his lip again, runs his tongue along it as he tries not to pant. 

“Do you want more?” Tarran asks. “I wonder if I should show you the rest.” He glances sideways, as if checking to see that there’s no one else in the room. Then he goes back to stroking his cock, fingers moving in time across the pale skin that’s just been exposed at the base of his throat. Hux groans as he sees those fingers dip beneath the laces of the shirt, tease at the still hidden temptation. 

His own cock is leaking steadily now, precome beading on the end. Hux pushes up his undershirt enough that his cock lies heavy on his stomach. He flicks his fingers along it, then wraps his hand firmly around the base. His back arches as he squeezes, stroking up to the head with deliberate slowness. On the holo, Tarran is teasing himself, featherlight touches against his balls and fingers flirting with the open top of his shirt. 

“I’m going to show you. I know you want to see. You’re all dirty fuckers, and you need this. I know you’ve been thinking about it.” Tarran pulls open the top of his shirt in one swift motion, and Hux tastes blood as he bites down on his lip. Even after this many watches, he’s still astonished at the man’s boldness, at the way he bares himself to the recorder. 

Tarran’s cheeks are flushed though, the only sign that he knows how absolutely debauched he looks, collarbones exposed to the recorder. Hux feels his cock jerk, balls drawing up. He holds his breath. He can’t come, not yet. Tarran glances straight into the recorder, lips shiny and high cheekbones pink. 

“You like that? Force I feel like such a slut. I can’t believe I’m doing this.” His fingertips trace lightly across the ridge of his collarbone and Hux wants mimic the motion across his own skin. He’s not quite turned on enough for that yet, not quite… 

Tarran moans as he fingers the curve of bone, the notch that marks the base of his throat. He’s jacking himself more quickly now, hand flying over his cock as he pets at himself. Hux twists his own hand hard around the head of his cock, gasps at the feeling. It’s sweet, tight and hot slide of his hand just enough. 

“Bet you all wish you could do this? Would you lick at me? I’d love to feel that - someone biting me here.” He gestures to the curve of his shoulders, to the dip of pale skin in the hollows above his collarbones. “No one’s ever done that for me.” He moans. “I bet it would feel so nasty. Bet I could come just from that.”

Hux rips off his own shirt, hand flying up to his chest. Sometimes he can’t bring himself to do this, can’t bring himself to stroke at his own bird-like bones in time to the caress of Tarran’s fingers. But tonight, tonight he wants the slither of pleasure deep in his belly, the knowledge that he is fucked up enough to want this more than anything else. He presses his fingers against the sharp knob of bone on his left shoulder. Slides them across his chest to brush the curve of his own throat. His cock throbs.

“Fuck!” Tarran exclaims on the holo. He’s pinching at the skin underneath his collarbone, and Hux wonders if he’s imagining what it would feel like to have someone bite into him there. How wrong it would be, how absolutely debauched it would seem. Hux can admit, with one hand flying over his cock now and the other pawing at his narrow bones, that he would love it. That he wants to feel someone’s tongue flick over this most private part of him, feel someone’s mouth leaving bruises against his skin. Wants to walk around with bite marks hidden beneath his utterly proper clothes, knowing inside how much of a pervert he really is. 

Tarran is getting close, cock jerking in his hand, cheeks flushed a deep pink. He’s panting, loud through the speakers of Hux’s datapad. Hux moans as he strokes himself faster in response. He wants to come, can feel it building in the tightness of his stomach, in the way his fingers clench at his bones as he pets his throat. He cups his balls as they twitch, trying to draw up. Then he strokes at his cock two more times, fast and tight. 

He tumbles over the edge just as Tarran shouts on the video, Hux coming with a hand at the base of his throat just as Tarran does as well. Hux’s fingers press into the suprasternal notch as his other hand milks his cock, come across his belly where he’s slumped down on the bed. When his cock finally finishes leaking, Hux makes to pull his hand away. But then, then he coats his fingers with the come pooled on his stomach. Reaches up and paints it across his collarbones in a sticky streak. His cock throbs at the wrongness of it. He’s a mess, and he almost can’t believe what he just did. But he can feel the wetness of his come across his throat, feel the fucked up beauty of it. It’s delicious.

***

Kylo breathes sharply through his nose as he closes his datapad. It’s a simple matter to slave it to the ship’s cameras. Much simpler than trying to ghost through the minds of the crew, and much less risky than trying to worm his way into Hux’s thoughts. 

He’s hard in his leggings. 

He can’t believe what he just saw. Or then again, he wouldn’t believe it, unless he hadn’t seen something similar more than once before. 

Kylo has never been able to understand the First Order’s strange ideas of propriety. It’s not as though the New Republic looked kindly on overly revealing clothing, that’s not it at all. But the First Order carries it to extremes. It doesn’t really matter though, Kylo reflects. He may not quite understand why Hux shivers with delight at his own perversions every time he does this, but that doesn’t matter. 

No, what matters is the clear want in Hux’s eyes. The way that he paws at himself and desperately needs more. The way that he pinches his own soft skin, and the way he trembles when he does it. What matters is how much better Hux would look if Kylo were to bite at the curve of his bones. If Kylo were to press kisses over his skin, lick the come away from all the places where Hux has painted himself in dirty-wrong delight. 

What matters is that Kylo wants to do that. Wants it desperately, more than he’s wanted anything in a long, long time. And he’s going to do anything to get it. He’ll find a way. Hux is a mess of perverted fantasies, and Kylo, well, Kylo’s going to make them all come true.

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone is interested in more thoughts on collarbone kink and the First Order, let me direct you [here](http://saltandlimes.tumblr.com/post/152308832411/jonstarks-headcanon-brought-to-you-by) and [here](http://saltandlimes.tumblr.com/post/146759324571/kegareta-saltandlimes-victorianmaiden)
> 
> Thanks to [jonstarks](http://jonstarks.tumblr.com/) and [artyaouter](http://artyaourter.tumblr.com/) for looking this over and telling me I wasn't completely batty for writing it. 
> 
> Come talk to me about collarbones [@saltandlimes](http://saltandlimes.tumblr.com/)


End file.
